Demon Knight

CHAPTER TEN

The continual booms and rattling of gunfire were apparently mere celebration. All the bells of Florence had been ringing for hours, while bonfires blazed in the night, and drunken mobs teemed through the streets. Even within the Marradi Palace, the few servants still around were unsteady on their feet and inclined to leer at their betters in ways that would not normally be tolerated. No family members were in evidence. Sartaq had advised Lisa and her mother to remain in their room and keep the door locked. Whether he was doing the same, they did not know, but he at least had a bodyguard and a couple of tame shamans around to look after him. The Fiend's defeat, in other words, was turning out to be little less frightening than his success might have been. It was after midnight when Lisa, supperless but exhausted, decided she might as well go to bed. Before she could say so, a thunderous knocking on the door almost sent her mother back into hysterics.

Lisa bent to shout through the keyhole. 'Who's there?'

A blurred male voice said something about a lettera.

Even she could understand that word. 'Um, sotto il porta!'

Not understanding her Italian, he just pushed the letter under the door and went away. It was brief, written in a poor hand.

Sir Toby will wate upon thir magesttys within ye our.

He must have written it himself.

Blanche, reading over her shoulder, uttered a squeak like a pierced cat. 'He's coming to get you!'

'Nonsense, Mother. I'm too young for…' Her voice wavered into silence. 'Oh, Mother!'

The two of them fell into each other's arms.

To the victor belongs the loot. King Longdirk the First.

* * *

The summons did not come for at least two hours, far beyond the limit of time even two royal ladies could spend making each other ready for an important audience. The street racket remained as raucous as ever, but when the tap on the door came, it was more courteous than before.

'Who's there?'

'Colin McPhail, Your Majesty.'

Ah! Half of Lisa shuddered in horror at the realization that Longdirk really had come for her, and the other half acknowledged that she knew Colin McPhail and he was a decent young man. She unlocked the door.

* * *

McPhail had a Marradi flunky with him as a guide, but also half a dozen pikemen, which seemed an excessive bodyguard for a journey downstairs in a palace. Perhaps he knew more than she did. By the time they reached the top of the staircase, Lisa was grateful for their support, or at least for the lanterns they carried. The great mansion was dark and deserted, even the street noises barely penetrating its walls. Statuary loomed like guardian spirits, the pictures were mysterious splodges — although she noted that the ones she liked best by daylight were still the most interesting in near darkness. She wondered if Pietro's wraith haunted his ancestral home, and quickly decided that he had not been evil, and the tutelary would cherish his soul. Lucrezia was another matter altogether. Where had she gone?

The hall was a cube of black emptiness whose lower surface was sprinkled with a few candle flames like fallen stars. At least a score of men were standing in the middle, but the buzz of conversation ceased as she approached. She recognized Guilo Marradi, and Sartaq, and Longdirk by his size, but almost no one else. Most of the men were soldiers — all swords, boots, armored jerkins, steel helmets.

Sartaq stepped forward. She curtseyed.

'Rise, Cousin,' he croaked in his harsh accent, 'and Aunt, too. I am happy to tell you that comandante Longdirk has just been reporting how he destroyed the Fiend's army, as instructed. Hence I have the pleasure to assure you that your royal persons are no longer in peril. Italy is saved.'

Lisa curtseyed to him again, not to Longdirk. 'That is indeed wonderful news, Your Highness. Sir Tobias is large, but I assume he had some assistance?'

'Indeed he had. Allow me to present: first comandante Longdirk, the hero of the day. You know Captain-General Don Ramon…'

As each man in turn stepped forward and bowed, she noticed that the two shamans were standing in the gloom at the edge of the group, but so also was Maestro Fischart, who was supposed to have died in Siena. So Longdirk's gramarye probably outweighed Sartaq's, and the prince was certainly outmatched in sheer muscle and steel if all these mercenaries were on Longdirk's side.

Then she saw Hamish in the background and forgot everything else. He was standing behind a small table that bore a gold candlestick, so his face was lit from below, making his expression eerie and hard to discern, but he was certainly staring very hard at her, and she was hard put not to stare back instead of going through the necessary absurdities of acknowledging the soldiers' bows. Oh, Hamish, don't just stand there! Take me away from all this madness. Drag me onto your horse and ride for the hills.

When the stupid rigmarole was ended, she was left standing between Sartaq and her mother and could no longer deny to herself that she would not be here if she were not the subject of the meeting. Marriage? Couldn't it wait until tomorrow? Even in the dancing, uncertain candlelight she could tell that everyone there was exhausted. Longdirk looked the worst, as if he were close to unconscious on his feet. Servants were doing something at the far end of the hall, laying out a meal, perhaps.

'So what exactly is your proposal, comandante?' Sartaq said. 'Start at the beginning again, for we are all very tired. Start, in fact, by explaining why the matter cannot wait a few days and must be discussed in the middle of the night.'

The big man squared his shoulders with a visible effort, as if he carried an ox on them. 'Logistics, Your Highness. We have sixty thousand prisoners or more outside the city and Allied armies three times that size. Tuscany will be eaten to the roots if we wait. Nevil must not be given time to raise another army. We must start moving out right away.'

'Orders,' said a quiet voice from the wings. A few heads turned to scowl at Hamish, who was the prompter.

'Yes, orders,' Longdirk mumbled. 'Orders. Someone has to be able to give the necessary orders, and I have fulfilled the mandate…' His voice tailed away.

'Two hundred thousand bodies,' Sartaq said. 'You need a few days to bury those… But carry on.'

Longdirk seemed to sway. He turned his head. 'Chancellor?'

Hamish spoke from where he stood. 'These noble knights, Your Highness, your officers, petition you to appoint comandante Longdirk to the post of suzerain, replacing the deeply lamented Pietro Marradi.' Hamish paused. Lisa thought he drew a deep breath. 'Subject to your gracious consent to this appointment and to confirm his status, he humbly petitions the hand in marriage of your ward, Elizabeth, lawful born Queen of England and diverse other realms.'

She managed not to shudder too visibly, but shudder she did. So Longdirk wanted her as a trophy of war, did he? And England, too. Not a bad prize for a ditch-born Highland bastard. He was having a good day.

Sartaq let the silence lengthen. Clearly this delegation was by way of being a mutiny. The Khan's armies were encamped all around Florence and their leaders had just given him an ultimatum. He was hunting for a way out. Lisa did not think he was going to find one.

'And you expect me to make this decision now, on the spot?'

'There is a movement afoot…' said a younger man. 'It would not be seemly, but the danger is… The men are already hailing him as suzerain, Your Highness.'

Pause. Then another man remarked to no one in particular, 'And the liberated troops have all sworn allegiance to him personally.'